


Hoarfrost Hope

by let_it_go_brother



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Brothers AU, Domestic, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Pilot Dean, Slightly an AU, Student Sam, still brothers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 13:38:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6756391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/let_it_go_brother/pseuds/let_it_go_brother
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A lot of Christmases been wasted away and dean has had enough of that, driving airplanes for a job just like he dreamed won't prevent him from surprising sam in his dorm to spend it together, but much he hoped and little he knew, a snowstorm comes in between the longing brothers. where is their christmas is going to be this year?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hoarfrost Hope

It was cold and snowing steadily here in Boston, Dean hurried inside the crowded building to catch a cup of nice decent coffee from the airport cafe before his next flight; after giving the nice guy behind the cashier his thank-you smile, he looked around and picked one of the countless empty chairs that was located a bit far from the center of the hall and it’s noise, holding his hot steaming coffee in his hands seeking warmth while his navy blue cap rested in his lap. He stared at the black depth of his drink and wondered if it's been only one year since Sam went to college. It felt like two, like a lifetime. Time moves slower than ever recently, or just since Sam left. His heart aches with missing the kid. He misses his long nerdy talks about his nerdy stuff, misses his annoying complains about Dean's never changing taste in music , about the food Dean used to make them but always ate it with a grin on his face saying he did better this time even though Dean never changed the recipes. And most of all, missed his presence in their little apartment. Some cozy neat place they finally were able to call home and settled in for 4 year and a half now, they managed to buy the place with a lot of part time jobs and sleepless nights. then, Dean's train of thoughts led him to take a turn at that point and realize, it was just perfect timing when Sam's acceptance letter came in at the very Same time Dean was promoted to begin taking long distance and international flights. He would be far from Sam more than often, more than ever. Sam would be ok of course but its something they never experienced before, something they thought about countless times lying on their beds at night staring at the ceiling, they knew one way or another, sooner or later, they will have to go some separate ways because that's how life goes on, but always building on coming back together after all. it's hard on him, on both of them, and most of the time it's almost unbearable. They've never been apart before and it feels like living in a shell of himself and his heart grows heavy just thinking about what Sam might be going through without him too. He sighs as he fishes his phone from his pocket, his fingers instinctually hitting numbers he knows by heart. After two rings the familiar voice fills his ears and heart with warmth he didn’t feel from his hot coffee.  
"hey!" Nothing but enthusiasm in Sam's voice.  
"Hey buddy" he replays softly with a smile already tugging on his lips.  
"how is spending every two days in a country going?" The younger brother jokes casually, sending a jolt of nostalgia to Dean's heart so he looks down, thump smoothing absently at the golden coin on his cap, considers his answer before giving it "my back is getting used to it." He pauses before adding "but i miss the short ones you know; like the one im about to take in .." he checks his watch "half an hour".  
Sam eyebrows frown in confusion "did you run into a building so they unprompted you or what? Why are you taking a local one?"  
Dean huffs a laughter "no smartass i didn't run into anything, im a great driver even on cloud nine and yes im still on it, its just...well, i asked for it" he gives in at the end preparing himself for the protesting and questioning.  
"You know it means less money, Dean. why did you do that?" Sam is quiet but not even trying to hide the concern in his tone "You tired?" he asks in a softer one.  
"No no im fine, Sam" Dean waits for a beat and then "Washington".  
Sam is confused for a split of a second before his whole face lights up and his heart expands at a burst of joy, "you coming for Christmas ?!!" a chuckle escaping him at the realization and his tone rising a bit in utter excitement he is barely containing.  
Dean's smile is a wide grin now at how the kid could abruptly shrink back to 10 years old whenever he is awarded with small little surprises, "take it as this year's present cause im all I've got. So don't you dare ask for anything else"  
Sam laughs the words "it would be better than your last cook book, because as you can see, you, i can get rid of but cooking books would take up space to much important stuff on my shelf thank you very much" Dean can hear his brother's smirk thro the little device.  
"You don't wanna get rid of me" Dean teases back.  
"Oh no, you have no idea, i wouldn't be able to stand your presence for more than 5 minutes" All but fondness in his voice.  
"yes you would" to Dean's surprise his tone comes out a little lower not so playful anymore.  
Sam's soft breaths fill the silence that spreads itself for several seconds making Dean unconsciously holds his own breath.  
"I would." Its so soft, almost a whisper but carries everything Dean expected and even more and he curses the distance between them for the millionth time this week.  
When Dean was just breathing in the aftermath of that little confession that he already knew and was about to replay, his pager peeps as a remainder for his flight. He takes a deep breath before clearing his throat and saying "That's my call of duty and I'm coming down to fetch my precious cook book back, bitch"  
Sam huffs a laugh. "I don't need a book to prepare omelets and pancakes, jerk"  
"Yeah yeah Petty Croker, in about 5 hours i'll be on your door, better start decorating little room of yours before I'm there"  
"You will be amazed" Sam says with a smile. Dean hangs up, adjusts his cap on, feeling something like a fuel flooding in his insides at the thought of meeting his baby brother soon giving him energy that wasn't there before as he hurries outside. 

He rubs his eyes after writing an essay that took his energy along with some homework. Lefts his head to peak from his window to the campus and shudders slightly to the view, snow was starting to fall slightly while he sat here in a t-shirt. It's been 2 hours since Dean called telling him he is coming. His lips twitched in a form of smile remembering he has to decorate his room or Dean would whine about it being a cold Christmas. He won't show serious frustration or unpleasantness because Dean never complain. But he knows how Dean likes all the Jingle bells and home baked ginger cookies, beaming at the lightened tree like a kid, and Sam would pay whatever it takes to see that look on his brother's face after all the rough life they've been through, they moved a lot and celebrated less. its true that Dean tried everything he can to get them to settle but it was hard to accomplish with them being on their own after the death of their parents when Sam was 9. They had to move from one relative’s house to another, a helpless aunt who tried so many times to shush her douchebag husband to the asshole, tempered, constantly drunk grandfather who’s place was not the environment Dean wanted for Sam to grow in. Sam was pulled from his thoughts by the water heater whistle he set earlier to make something warms up his crony limps but he turned it off, grabbed his jacket and wallet, heading to the closest market hoping to find an available left out tree.

 

The plain was on the auto pilot. Chatting with his copilot about last night's game, still got 3 hours ahead of them to land, Julie, one of the flight attendants who's in her mid thirties offering them coffee and snacks from time to time just because she is nice enough. Steve was just about to go on doing a relive for one of the player's moves when abruptly a sound came through one of the speakers in front of them, it was the navigation tower at Washington contacting them. "There is a snow storm about 189 miles ahead do you see any signs ?" The employee from land asks.  
"No not really the radar shows nothing and we see nothing.." His assistant replies.  
"We will keep you updated in case anything changed, contact in case of seeing any signs"  
"Copy that" Steve said and shot a wryly look towards Dean who sat straighter, shoulders tensed, eyes sharp and focused, 150% into working mood now. The clock ticks and the chatting stops and tensed silence fills the tiny room.  
One hour and a half later the radar reveals what was coming, a very ugly looking big snow storm. "Contact the tower. now" Dean commands taking on driving the airplane while mentally trying to figure a way out of this mess coming towards them, or them going right through it, its all the Same anyway.  
Their vision through the big sized thick glass in the cockpit darkened impossibly almost making Steve and Dean think or hope for a second that maybe miraculously this snow disaster is changing its path or disappearing at all before whitening again almost suddenly with flying heavying snow. A knot in Dean's stomach just tightened even more than it has already been, and the tower is still not responding, but they will manage, the have to manage because its not just them here, it’s the lives of over 300 person counting on him to make it to their families on Christmas eve. Going on their 15th minute into the storm now made the airplane sway slightly in random directions waking up the passengers and setting everyone's alarms off in a beginning of a panic wave. Dean's grip tightened around the kind of wheel that is not actually rounded, turning his knuckles whiter than ever. "Try again" his tone sharper and edgier than Steve could ever remember, so he tries and tries again until the signal finally comes through an irritating, crackling, electric sound, the team commanding them a fast landing on the next runway which they all know is another hour ahead. "Thats impossible i cant keep it up for another hour, Im barely keeping it now!" Dean explained nervously, because no matter how well trained they are or how much you are used to it, once you feel danger’s grip tightening around you with the weight of responsibility of having hundreds of lives in your hand keeps ringing in the front of your mind like an alarm. "Captain, we are aware of the difficulty of the situation but there might not be anothe- ....." And the signal was gone, the steady male voice no more to be heard and Dean almost slams a fist on the controlling wheel but curses under his breath nonetheless. His mind (and probably steve's too) racing to figure a way out, his thoughts were cut off when several of buttons went off crazily. the whole plane taking a massive dive down under the force of the strong wind, he can hear frightened screams from behind now since Julie opened the tiny door questioning what the hell was going on, he gives his orders to everyone including the flight attendants to take their seats and keep their safety belts on. Calculating the matter of the peeping alarms, the realization hits him like a punch to his guts, the airplane's parts are beginning to freeze due to the continuance snow hitting on the body of the airplane and surely building up layers. Dean feels his stomach rolling in fear when his mind supplies a single word "wheels" he whispers.  
And his copilot is not able to hear him because of the loud sound of the airplane's parts rattling around them.  
"We are landing" he said louder.  
"What ?!" Steve's eyes widens at the lack of sense in the sentence.  
"The wheels are going to freeze, we have to land before we are not able to pull them out or use them anymore" Dean said, not a flash of hesitation in his authoritative captain voice.  
"Cap, land on what?!" His younger copilot almost yells frighteningly.  
"earth!" Dean nearly yelling back either to make sure Steve hears him or to cover up his rising panic. And this is the plan they have. Steve knew it was their best and only shot to make. He announces it to everyone because they deserve to know if it was the end, and while he does that, he crosses his heart and slides his fingers between his shirt and clue tie and grips the golden horned amulet underneath the fabric and closes his eyes for a moment, heart beating faster in the vision of Sam's face flashing in front of him. He opens his eyes abruptly almost regretting it when the image of his little brother gets torn away, his grip grows tighter on the wheel "hold tight Steve and do as I say so we can do this and so your mom doesn’t go after me in my grave". Steve swallows and doesn’t even smile at the homerless joke and clicks many buttons on the panels in front of them.  
Julie screams with the crowd this time.

⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️

Standing in the middle of his room, he feels proud looking at his work, the medium sized tree setting in the far corner of the room, several threads of tiny lights shining and going around the whole tree making it look more peaceful somehow when the rest of the room lightening is dimmed. Dean would have done a better job at decorating such a small space but he wasn't that bad too. His eyes fall on the wall clock 9pm it says, two hours till he can give Dean his stupid cook book back that he just used to bake them Christmas cookies and have the longest conversation they might ever have and most excitingly, give dean the tightest hug he is able to give and not backing off even if dean squirmed until his longing heart is satisfied.  
God it feels like more than just a year since he and Dean were in the same place. He wonders whether the tree is greener than Dean's eyes or not, even if darker, definitely not shinier than the mixture of golden green that swims in those pair of eyes. Two hours is still too early to go and get him from the airport. He sighs and slumps on the sofa taking the remote, changing aimlessly at the channels.  
[..crashed one hour away from Washington airport, the numbers of the dead and wounded are still unknown, according to the navigation tower, an airplane coming from Boston lost connection with the supporting team..] and Sam's ears couldn't process the rest of the news presenter's sentence, his heart pounding so loud in his ears deafening him from hearing any other sound, even though his lips are hanging slightly open, he is not able to get any air in or out.  
⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️⚪️  
Ha can't recall how he was able to notice the sign of Harley's gas station's miles away behind the reporter but he did, and he knows where that station is, thank god he does or he would've lost his mind trying to know the location of the crash. Crash..something feels like a stone sitting in the middle of his guts and preventing him from taking a deep breath as the word sank deeper in his mind. Dean is a good pilot, hell, an excellent one who got promoted before half of his colleges did. It was definitely the storm, there is no other explanation. Moves led by instinct, he was at his car a few seconds or maybe minutes later, he clicked on the wipers on the front windshield. It was snowing like there is no tomorrow, its so cold inside the car, what would it be like on the outside for more than the short walk between his building and his car in the parking lot? In the woods? And its not even near midnight? with the possibility of being unconscious? .. He takes a shaky breath and swallows thickly, shoving the darkening thoughts to the back of his mind, desperately trying to concentrate on the road and maybe considering the little flicker of thought that it might not be even Dean's flight, after all. Miracles could happen and he just needs to get there. 

 

Sammy is 21 why cant he grow up and quit waking Dean up with splashing water on his face? Its so annoying and he is so going to make his next mornings miserable for it, he started this. But why is it so dark and wet in his bed? Did the electricity go out on him in the bathtub again and its just the shower dripping on his forehead? No he paid the pills, He is sure he paid them, he worked at the diner down the street this month along with collage to manage a whole month without any sudden hid and seeks. what is it then? most like where is it ? Where is he ? What is this pain in his abdomen? He has to figure it out cause the witness is soaking his cloths. Clothes, so not a bathtub. "Focus Dean focus" he tells himself mentally. But there is this feeling near his stomach distracting him from thinking or even breathing.  
Okay first thing first, breathing..he has to breath, he cracks his jaw the slightest and flicks his tongue over icy parted lips and tries. After what felt like ..well he is not able to tell, his breathing is even now instead of the little short gasps he took at first.  
His eyelids so heavy with exhaustion but he has to see, he has to open them, so he tries and his body rewards him with only a roll of his eyeballs beneath his eyelids.  
He wants the wetting tingly touches on his forehead to stop for a minute so he could concentrate on opening his eyes now dammit.  
He finally cracks his eyes open and sees something prettier than he expected, little snow flacks coming down from above to finally rest on his face, so not drops from their old leaking shower because he is sure their bathroom ceiling is not a wide dark unclear sky. Those flaks would be perfect for building a snow man, like those Sam and him used to build near Christmas. Christmas? Oh ...OH ..Dean's eyes widen when the memories flow in his mind like a big, sudden and unstoppable flood : Sam, Christmas, snow storm, crash, passengers ..what happened to the passengers? The lives who were on his flight, his responsibility. His body acting according to his mind, his hands explore the surface beneath them, he is probably somewhere near the crash, he lifts his weight on his hands in attempt to sit apparently faster than he should because a white sneering pain shots in his entire left side sending him back on his back screaming soundlessly. What the hell was that? Dean thought gasping as he lifted his cold as ice hands to sense his side angling his head down to try and see.

"oh god" he whispers in a raspy voice when his hands come in contact with what caused the horrible screaming unfamiliar pain, a piece of ripped out metal wreckage is sticking out of his side yet thankfully, not coming out from the back of his side. He let his head fall back on the vacancy it has created on the snow. And now his mind is fully awake working on another discovery, its fucking freezing in here that he can barely feel his fingertips. he has no idea for how long he's been lying here but It must be long enough for the storm to come down. He has to move or he would freeze to death, if he didn't bleed to death of course. he considers taking the piece of metal out but immediately decides against it. no, he won't have the strength to finish it or to stop the bleeding afterwards. Taking a deep breath to clear his mind, he moves his eyes and take into his surroundings, darkness is not that bad after his eyes adjusted to it plus the moon somewhere above is doing a not bad job despite the heavy clouds pouring snow steadily. a thick layer of white covering everything around him and almost burying him alive, after he angled his head backwards he spots a tree a few feet behind him, good. he repeats the action trying to left his weight on his hands but not so much of a successful result so he starts crawling back very slowly to at least not cause big jolts of pain. it was 3 feet tops but it felt like a mile. Panting, he rests his full weight on the hard trunk. He feels exhaustion washing over his entire body leaving him boneless and all he wants is do to shut his eyes for a bit, just enough to catch his breaths. He is not gonna fall asleep, no. Just a bit. 

 

Between a highway and a cliff, the airplane was divided into two parts, red and blue lights stabbing at his vision, shouts and some cries, a sight made Sam's salvia flood in his mouth then throw up probably everything he had today leaving him shaking for 10 minutes. Policemen with their rescuing dogs were the majority among volunteers and people actually related to others were in the accident and came as fast as they could, just like Sam. All spread and searching at the sides of the road, down the hill, inside the woods and all over the area and everywhere near the crash, rescuing who was still alive and bringing limp unconscious breathing bodies or dead ones, and it was all a big horrible nightmare. a man with a notepad and a pen approaching bodies, asking questions and scribbling things, names. Sam jogged towards him “ sir? Please tell me those are people’s names” his voice coming out more pleading than he thought. “it is, are you here looking for someone you know?” the man’s tone calm and practiced.  
“my brother, my big brother, Dean Winchester he is the pilot” he holds a breath, both afraid of the man to judge his brother or even think of blaming him for this cause if sam sees any signs of this he is throwing fists. But manly afraid of the man to nod and look him with that apologetic, sympathic look because he found the name the list of those who are in black bags in the back of trunks leaving to the morgue. The man flips several pages and sam hears what he didn’t prepare himself for, “no son im afraid he hasn’t been found yet”. It feels like when you think it couldn’t worse but of course it does. Sam tries not let it all take over his mind and send him into a full force panic attack, bur he also cant help his hands shooting to his head and gripping it tight in desperate attempt to wrap his head around all of this. Dean is lost, might be alive but also might be dying..or already dead. The officer must have said something to him but he can’t tell what exactly it was because the next thing he knows he is holding a torch and a rope in (if you squint hard enough) trembling hands, walking and calling Dean's name nonstop along with a lot of volunteers doing the same. Its past 1:30am, they've been searching for 2 damn hours now and still got nothing about where the hell his brother's body might have fallen and he would search for the rest of his life if he had to, even if the snow has stopped falling, the temperature is still dropping, fast, and so is his heart.  
Is dean awake? Could he hear him? But maybe not able to answer? What if he is unconscious? What if he's ..  
"DEAN" his fears translated into a louder shout than before. His brain jumping into a thousand possible conclusion per minute, nothing to do but shout and look. Time is running, his patience is running and he has to find him soon. Very soon.


End file.
